


could be so nice

by everythinghappensforareason17



Series: Aos Drabbles [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Break Up, Don't copy to another site, Drinking, Emotions, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Other, Past Relationship(s), Post-Season/Series 02, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-21 05:50:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19996894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythinghappensforareason17/pseuds/everythinghappensforareason17
Summary: "There was never an us."





	could be so nice

**Author's Note:**

> **Fitz &Mack (kind of)/ Past FSK + “There was never an us.”**
> 
> **this drabble is a little continuation of ‘it’s daisy now’. So it's still post s2 and you can go and read that if you want…but if not, i still hope you enjoy!**
> 
> _written for @aosficnet2 for their july true drabble challenge on tumblr_

Twenty-one days ago _:_ Jemma’s swallowed by that fucking _rock…_ taken from him— _possibly forever—_ just when things between them had begun to mend and mold into something _greater…_ something _better._

_He and Jemma and Daisy…Daisy and Him and Jemma…Jemma and Daisy and Him. All together. Forever and Always._

Two days ago _:_ Skye— _Daisy Johnson, codename: Quake_ —left the team… _and him…_ behind on Coulson’s orders… traveling the world… recruiting other forsaken inhumans with her partner, Lincoln Campbell. Her name now Daisy Johnson…her codename: Quake…the _legend…_ the _myth…_ the fucking _martyr._

_“There was never an us! There **can’t** be…not **now** …not **ever** …” Skye— **it’s Daisy now. Daisy fucking Johnson** —had said to him before she’d gone. Her voice hard and eyes dead…the spark gone. Her suitcase packed and zipped… **their** t-shirt forgotten between them. “I can’t be **me** and be with **you** , Fitz…I just don’t have it in me…” _

Twenty-three days and nights later _:_ Fitz decides to get rip-roaring drunk and hang around the monolith like a fucking loser. _Waiting_ … _Watching_... a half-empty bottle of Jameson dangling from his grip…his breathing saw-edged…his heart blackening…unchecked rage and sorrow boiling close to the surface… _finally_ ready to be set free. The urge to scream at the top of his lungs overflowing…threatening to consume him.

 _And_ —Fitz’s become too _jaded_ …been left too _raw_ …to continue holding it back. So Leopold Fitz lets loose… _and screams and screams_ …until his throat burns from the inside out and his voice breaks apart from the heavy weight bogging him down into the depths of his own despair… _suffocating_ …tearing him wide open and bleeding on the floor….until there’re no sounds to express his heartbreak…

He yells until there’s nothing left and the exhaustion and alcohol take over and he passes out…and that’s how Mack finds him the next morning, a smashed whiskey bottle and bloody knuckles with all his anguish exposed.

_**the end.** _


End file.
